


Sister Pitchiner

by GemmaRose



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Brother Frost, Child Death, Gen, Homelessness, Sister Pitchiner, homeless children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch has believers, but not in him as the Boogeyman. Instead, they think he is a martyr/saint/goddess/whatever. He takes the form of a pretty young woman in a hooded cloak and old-time dress. S/he doesn’t like doing it, but understands that it is a necessary evil and that sometimes ‘protecting’ could also mean ‘killing’.</p><p>If you leave Her gifts of food then She will come to you and guard you while you sleep. If you are lost or in trouble just say Her real name three times and she will come to you. If you are alone and leave a certain gift then She will appear and grant your wish to die.</p><p>de-anon from rotg-kink</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister Pitchiner

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Brother Frost](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/25108) by multiple authors. 



_Pitch doesn't notice at first, when bits of time begin to go missing. His Realm has a tendency of distorting things, and in the aftermath of his defeat he's been sleeping more than usual. He assumes the dead-zones in his memory are caused by his Mares trying to be helpful and putting him to sleep when he's not paying attention. The Boogieman has no way of knowing it, but he could not be more wrong._

\-----

Jack sits with his back to the alley's brick wall, buffering any wind which tries to play with the children in the narrow dead-end passage. They are not dressed for the winter, and though he must move on come sundown he can at least keep these few safe until then. The tallest of them, a twiggy girl named Veera with filthy dreads and sallow skin and a hacking cough that sounds like pneumonia, tells amazing stories, and while he dare not infringe upon their fragile bubble of warmth he can hear them just fine.

She tells the most common tales first, shoddy recountings of classic fairy-tales with a morbid flare the Brothers Grimm would be proud of. When those are exhausted, however, a wordless signal is given and the circle pulls closer together. She starts in quiet tones, educating the group's youngest in their ways. The tiny blondes listen with wide green eyes as she describes Blue Lady and Red Man, the neon angels and La Llorona. Everyone shivers at the name and crosses themselves, even the brothers who don't know yet what she means, even Jack, who knows vaguely that he has faced her before and escaped. Then he sees Veera smile, a display of chipped and yellowing teeth he's learnt is rare from the preteen, and before she even speaks he senses her next tale.

She speaks of Brother Frost for a good few minutes longer than any other, citing children whose names and faces are forever burnt into his skull. She is a Believer, not in Jack but in the White Brother, the Winter Prince whose kiss means death and whose smile means protection. The boy the Angels chose to help those beyond helping, who trades favours for oranges and always, always comes when you call.

Jack shivers, and wishes to the wind that her words weren't so true. That he couldn't feel the burning prickle of new devotees to the Saint of Suicides.

While her story of him made him tremble, her next sacred tale makes him freeze statue-still. He has never heard this one before, and he takes a sort of pride in knowing the forces who help protect these children his Guardian status cannot reach. As the sun drops behind the skyline and streetlamps flicker on, Veera speaks of The Saint's kind sister.

"She told me to call her 'The Purple Sister'." the girl says with a shy sort of pride. Witnesses to the spirits are not as common as claims made it seem, but by the almost fanatic fervor in this girl's eyes Jack can tell she's not a liar. Whoever this new protector is, she's real.

"She dresses like a princess, 'cept the dress is all black and purple, and it's not shiny at all. Her eyes are purple too, and she's got poofy black hair that goes all the way down to her feet. When she comes out of the shadows, you don't hardly know she's there 'cept for her necklace. It's made of a melted piece of Heaven's own gate, an' just one touch makes any bad dreams go right away.

Jack sat attentively, hardly aware of the falling night. Whoever this woman was, he wanted to meet her. Any spirit who could banish Pitch's creations would be a valuable ally, not only in the battle against the Demons but also in case Pitch tried to pull something again.

"She won't come for just anyone, though." Veera continued with a sly smile. "You have to leave her a gift. If you leave her an apple she'll stand guard while you sleep and keep all the bad things away, but if you leave her a book she'll give you her blessing in a kiss, an if you've got The Sister's blessing you can walk in the night without getting hurt."

Jack nodded appreciatively. The Sister was sounding better by the minute, and if even half of the things Veera said were true this woman was not a being to cross.

The girl coughed, her entire narrow frame shaking, and Jack knew with a gut certainty that her illness was caused by more than mortal means. But when a clump of pure snow slid off a roof to land next to her, she took a handful and swallowed it. Then she cleared her throat and kept talking. "The Sister can only speak when the moon is blind, but I've heard her. She told me about other things growing, dark things, things that climb into you and kill you from inside, then walk around in your skin. The grown-ups think medicine makes them better, but if you've got a Demon in you it won't go away." she pulled up her shirt, exposing a jagged scab. At a guess, Jack would say she'd cut herself on a piece of jagged metal just a few days ago. The kids gasped, reaching out to touch it.

Veera smiled sadly, and Jack's stomach dropped as she began to speak again. "The Sister can do two other things, though." she said reverantly, eyes shut. Usually, Jack could only find this sort of peace in a street child while they slept. Or when he came at their call, but he preferred not to think about those faces.

"If you're lost at night, just stand under a broken street light and say her true name three times. She'll come and lead you to a safe place to sleep where you don't have to worry." Veera exhaled heavily, pressing on her concave stomach in a gesture Jack has seen too many times today. "And if you leave her two slices of bread, she'll come and grant your wish to die."

Jack shuddered. He hated the way Veera smiled as she delivered the last line, the sense of foreboding heavy on his shoulders.

The tiny blonde boys wrapped their arms around each other protectively. "What if..." he swallowed, the shorter boy's hands tightening in his grungry red jacket. "What if a friend calls her?"

Veera chuckled, a wet, sticky sound. "The Sister only has one flaw." she intoned. "If she tastes the blood of the one who called her, she will kill any children in sight. That's 'cuz once, a long time ago, she belonged to the side of the Devils. That's how come she can kill the demons in you, so they don't start walkin' round with your face."

The smaller blonde squeaked, burying his face in the other boy's jacket. One of the other boys in the circle scrunched up his face. "How come you know all this?"

Veera rolled her eyes. "She told me herself, last night in the shelter on Harvey. Ask any of the kids who were there, they'll tell ya."

The girl who sat next to the blondes tilted her head, short brown hair hanging limp and greasy against her shoulders. "Vee, what's the Sister's true name?"

The girl smiled, as if she'd been waiting for this question to be asked. "Her name," she whispered, pausing for dramatic effect. "Is Pitchiner."

Jack fell over, and against all odds the protective bubble stayed intact as he picked himself up. Denver could wait for a day or two, he had to find Pitch and make sure this coincidence was no more than just that, a coincidence.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the lack of Pitch in this chapter, the next part will definitely focus a lot more on Pitch and Pitchiner, and possibly some Brother Frost as well.


End file.
